


Girl at Home

by pinkamour1588



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 18:38:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11423796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkamour1588/pseuds/pinkamour1588
Summary: Based around the idea that Chris has the long standing habit of overworking.





	Girl at Home

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on my tumblr account.

You always knew he had a tendency toward working late into the night at his office. You didn’t mind at first. You would turn his late nights in the office into a date night of sorts by hanging around his office reading while he worked. It worked wonderfully for the first year of your relationship. But then you got a key to his place and started sleeping there more than you slept at your place. And then you moved in officially. For the first week, he seemed to make an effort to be home in the evening. Then he gradually started going back to late nights in his office and your work schedule, which you’d lined up with his so when he was off so were you, got in the way. You would wake up in the morning to find him either passed out asleep next to you or already gone. Then he started sleeping in his office more and you cracked.

You were going to be subtle about it and try not to let your frustration seep through. But when you walked into his office at eight o'clock at night to see him desperately trying to stay awake as he looked over documents. He didn’t even look up when you walked over to him and set down the bag of food. You stood behind him and put your hands on his shoulders, massaging them and avoiding getting the PADD he was looking at in your line of sight.

“You need to come home,” you said gently.

“I’ll be home soon,” he waved you off.

“Define soon.”

“I don’t know, but if you stop bothering me I can finish what I’m doing faster.”

“What time did you get home last night?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I’d estimate about twelve-thirty or one since I turned the lights off and tried to sleep around eleven-thirty and my god-awful insomnia is back. And I know you were well gone by seven-thirty because the pan you used to cook your breakfast was cold. So, you need to come home.”

“You realize I’m just going to end up working at the kitchen table?”

“No, you’re not because you are going to leave all of this here and come home and come to bed with me.”

“If you wanted sex, you could have just said so.”

You smacked his shoulder playfully, but apparently a little harder that you intended since he dropped his pen and lightly rubbed the spot you’d hit. “I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about my boyfriend overworking himself.”

“This report is due Thursday morning.”

“And it’s Monday night. You have two days to work on it.”

“And I’ve barely gotten to start it.”

You stepped back, removing your hands from his shoulders. “And I’ve barely seen my boyfriend in two weeks. I live with him and I’ve barely seen him. I know your work is important to you but it’d be nice to know I am too.”

He turned around in his chair and looked at you, back against the wall and standing as far back as you could from him. You looked down at your feet, trying to keep your strong façade on otherwise. He leaned forward and tried to grab your hand, but you just moved further away.

“Food’s in the bag,” you said as you turned and walked out.

You wanted to hear him coming after you as you walked to the elevator and got in. But he didn’t come. You considered going back to what was technically still your apartment. Elise would let you sleep there. You decided against it, instead heading to the apartment and immediately going to bed.

You had been in bed for barely half an hour before you heard the front door open. You closed your eyes tight and made sure your back was turned to his side of the bed, trying to fake being asleep. He undressed quickly and got into bed. You hoped he would buy into your act or just leave you be if he didn’t.

He didn’t. He wrapped his arm around your waist and held you tight, though you weren’t making any move to move away from him. “You are important to me. I get sidetracked sometimes and the fact I have a beautiful woman waiting for me at home slips my mind.”

“So, you forget about me?” You opened your eyes and stared straight ahead.

He hesitated, then answered, “Yes, I suppose I do unintentionally. (Y/N), Sweetheart, I’m so used to being alone it’s far too easy for me to forget that I’m not.”

“You forget about me,” you repeated.

Knowing you wouldn’t follow through if he asked you to, he turned you over to face him. He took your face in his hands, doing everything he could to attempt to get you to look at him. You closed your eyes instead.

“Unintentionally and with more regret than you realize,” he said, rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks.

“You still leave before I wake up. It’s one thing to get home late. That’s bad enough. But then you leave far before I wake up. How can you forget when I’m lying right next to you?”

“Convincing myself that I’ll see you later. That I’ll come home early, which I end up not doing because I get so engrossed in my work and losing track of time.”

“Did you eat today?” you asked suddenly.

“Breakfast and then some coffee and a pastry at a meeting.”

“What about what I brought you?”

“It’s in the fridge. I lasted about five minutes trying to go back to work after you left before clearing up and leaving the office.”

“It took you half an hour to get here.”

“I went by Elise’s figuring you might have gone there but obviously, you weren’t.”

“I considered it.” You pulled away from him and got up, walking out of the bedroom.

He followed after you as you walked to the kitchen. You took the unopened bag of food out of the fridge, taking the food out and reheating it. He stood in the kitchen doorway as you worked. You put all the food on a plate, walking to the kitchen table, grabbing his arm and dragging him to it. You wordlessly pushed him down to sit and put the plate in front of him.

“Eat. What do you want to drink? No alcohol,” you said.

He looked at you with an expression you didn’t quite recognize, then answered, “Water’s fine.”

You turned and went to the kitchen, returning a minute later and setting the glass of water next to his plate. “I said eat,” you urged, bordering on an order.

You turned and went to take a step away, intending to sit in the chair across the table, but was stopped by him grabbing your arm, tugging just hard enough to make you stumble a little backwards but not so hard it hurt. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you down onto his lap. He held you in place with one arm as he started eating.

“And why exactly do you need me right here while you eat?” You opted to look at his plate, still unable to bring yourself to look at him.

“Because I want you here,” he answered as if were obvious.

“I’m still mad at you.”

“Yet you reheated my dinner.

“I’ve done the same for people who are in inpatient care and keep refusing to eat.”

“And you’ve made no attempt to get up.”

“I’m still mad at you,” you repeated.

“I know.” He kissed the side of your head.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://pinkamour1588.tumblr.com)


End file.
